


Black High Heels

by anemic_cinema



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Don't Let Me Look Terrible-verse, Drunkenness, Friendship, Genderqueer Character, Gift Giving, reference to suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2260689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrea is drunk and sad, but she wants to give Daryl a present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black High Heels

At night the entrances to the mall had to be patrolled. Daryl didn't mind it so much. It was better than watching from the rooftop, especially when it was windy. The mall was even more quiet than usual as he went from entrance to entrance, making sure they were locked and that nothing or no one was trying to get in.

He peered out of the glass door into the darkness of the night. The others kept talking about reinforcing the doors. Daryl wished they would stop talking and do something about it. 

A clattering sound came from the Macy's. Any kind of out of place sound was enough for a shiver to run over Daryl's scalp. All he had on him was his flashlight and knife. Routine had made him a little complacent about the night patrol, and he cursed himself. Holding his flashlight aloft and his knife as well, he quietly crept towards the store. The gate was partially up, opened from the inside of the mall. Now that he was closer, he could hear a voice.

“Goddamn it.” 

Daryl relaxed. It was just Andrea. He slipped under the gate and swung the light of his flashlight over the displays. The blonde was slumped against a shoe display, taking swigs from a bottle. It wasn't often, but sometimes Andrea would hide out from the others to drink. Everyone knew about it although they did not speak on it. It was hard to miss the redness around her eyes. However, she didn't let it interfere with her responsibilities, and they figured she deserved some privacy. 

Satisfied that she was alright, Daryl was considering a quick retreat when she called out to him.

“Hey girl. C'mere. I need some company.” The blonde waved the bottle at him. It was Jack Daniels and half-empty. “And I need help drinking this.”

“I'm on patrol.” Daryl came over to her anyways and crouched down. “Looks like you've had plenty, so you don't need no more help.” 

Andrea smiled a boozy smile at him, but her eyes didn't smile along. “Well wanna keep me company then?”

The redneck sat down, adjusting his skirt. 

“Plaid looks good on you.” Andrea muttered before taking another sip. “Shit, you always look good.”

Daryl just looked at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were wet. He had no idea what to say to her though. They'd all lost people, so he understood why she was crying. What made him hesitate was that he knew that the chances were they would all lose more people before everything was said and done. 

“I know, I'm a mess right now. But I'll be fine. Just gimme a coupla hours.” Andrea screwed the metal cap back onto the bottle and shifted against the rectangular display. 

“Shouldn't you be with Michonne?” Daryl took the bottle and placed it aside.

Andrea pressed her lips together and shook her head. A sob burst out of her and she hunched over, covering her face. “I don't...she's dealt with so much. I don't wanna lay this on her.” She breathed deeply. “I'm fine. I promise.” She looked up at Daryl. “You know, I tried to kill myself. We were at the CDC and the place was rigged to blow up...I was gonna stay in there and let myself die. Dale convinced me not to...and after that I decided I wanted to stay alive. And then he died. Just like Amy did.” Her shoulders shook. “Most days I think I'm ok. That I've accepted this shit. But then...”

Daryl scooted closer and put an arm around the blonde's shoulders. She accepted the gesture. 

“What am I gonna do if I lose Michonne too?” She whispered out. 

The redneck took a deep breath and exhaled. “You can't think about that shit. It'll make you go crazy.”

“But-” She rubbed her eyes. 

“I worry 'bout the same thing everyday.” Daryl squeezed her shoulder.

“What do you do?”

“Try not to worry. Take it one day at a time.”

“Easier said than done.”

Daryl smiled wryly. “You said it.”

They sat in silence, lit by the flashlight. The redneck stretched out his legs. He'd chosen to go with just knee high socks with the skirt and the backs of his thighs were getting irritated by the short carpeting. 

“Why'd you come in here?” Daryl asked.

Andrea let out a small laugh. “After a coupla shots of Jack I got it in my head to come look for a pair of high heels for ya.” 

The redneck laughed. “Yer crazy girl.” 

Andrea turned her head and kissed his cheek. “Shut up. I love you man. Like...you're the best. I wanted to get you a present.” 

“Alright miss drunk-ass. I'm hauling you back to yer quarters.” He stood and made Andrea stand along with him. She wobbled and groaned. 

“No, I wanna find them heels first.” 

“I gotta get back to the patrol.”

“Real quick, c'mon.” She took his hand and dragged him behind the counter so they could get to the back room. She tried ramming the door open with her shoulder, which only led her to stumble. After a few tries, Daryl managed to crack it open. There were stacks of boxes on metal shelving units, and there was a thin layer of dust over everything. Most of the stores were looking that way now. 

“Ok, I was figuring on something in black. Black goes with everything.” Andrea quickly bypassed the stacks of smaller sizes. “Aha! Here we go.” Daryl led the light so she could rummage through the boxes, throwing the ones she didn't need aside and creating a mess in the tiny room. 

“C'mon, I gotta get back.” Daryl grumbled.

Andrea emerged holding a pair of shiny black stilettos that had a small platform at the front of the shoe. “Try them on. I dunno your shoe size.”

Sighing, Daryl unlaced and kicked off his right boot, and slid his foot in. “It's tight.” 

Andrea guffawed. “That's what she said.” 

The redneck rolled his eyes and hobbled over to one of the foot-level mirrors. Despite it being tight, it looked good. Kinda sexy. 

“These ain't standin' shoes, that's for sure.” 

“Nope, definitely laying down shoes. I think Glenn would like them.” Andrea waggled her brows. 

“Whatever.” Daryl chuckled. “Let's go.”

With the heels in hand, Daryl walked Andrea back to the Bath And Bodyworks store that was now her home with Michonne. The other woman was still awake, sitting up reading by lantern light. Since they'd claimed that space, Michonne had started to add stuff to the walls and shelves to make it look more homey. There was a ceramic cat figurine, a couple of small paintings she'd found on supply runs. When she saw the blonde, she got up from her chair and went towards her with open arms.

“You ok hon?” She asked softly, drawing the blonde into her arms. She could be tough as nails and hard with the others, but with Andrea she turned into a softy. Daryl thought it was sweet. 

“Yeah. Sorry to keep you up.” Andrea mumbled, burying her face against Michonne's neck. Her hands clutched onto the front of the other woman's vest, her thumb playing with the laces.

“G'night you two. Keep a closer watch after this one, willya?” Daryl joked, patting Andrea on the back.

Michonne smiled at him. “I try, but she's a wily one.” She kissed Andrea's temple. “C'mon.”

The blonde let herself be walked into the store, not letting go of Michonne. Daryl returned to his patrol, flashlight in one hand, high heels in the other. It certainly would be a surprise for Glenn when his shift was over.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kind of followup to Don't Let Me Look Terrible, and don't worry, there will be a fic forthcoming of Glenn getting to see Daryl in his new high heels.


End file.
